Scars on my heart
by Vet-Ka
Summary: I tried to run away, but where did it get me? Back where I started... (One-shot, AU, Post R&R: where Mal and Nikolai die, Alina has her power)


He wins, of course, and here I am sitting in the cell under the Grand palace. He wins not because he is stronger, but because I can't kill him. After stabbing Mal and seeing Nikolai fall from the sky - healed by light but unable to fly - I couldn't kill him. I had enough Grisha power to do it, but not enough power of will. Standing there, in the Fold, watching as my light burns the darkness, I was alone. Killing him meant that I would be truly and utterly alone.

Forever.

For eternity.

It's strange that I can't even cry. I feel nothing. Numb. Now, sitting in the prison, I'm thinking everything over and over in my head. Was there a way to avoid it?

_Yes._

Mal and Nikolai and so many others could have been alive. I tried to run away, but where did it get me? Back where I started, but with heavy burden of deaths on my shoulders. Had I only… What? Stopped fighting him and gave in to that consuming desire to be with him? Stayed in the Little Palace after the fete? Didn't hide my power when I was a child?

Somebody opens the cell and I look up. "Come with me," Ivan says.

We walk up the stairs, through the dark corridors and when the sun touches my skin I remember how infinite is my power now. I can kill him, right there, and run away. But where will I go? And what's the point anyway? We walk thought the Palace until we reach the throne room. Ivan opens the door and motions me to go inside.

The Darkling is standing near the window, looking outside. I approach him but he doesn't even look at me. This war took his toll on him. He looks tired. And somehow I know that it's not physical, but rather emotional weariness. I feel it too.

We stay like this, in silence, and it's almost peaceful, until I finally ask, "Now what?"

"What do you want?" he responds without looking at me.

"I don't know," I whisper.

His brows furrow, as if he is disappointed with my answer. And truth to be told, I'm disappointed too. I want so much, but I'm afraid to say it out loud. Because it hurts. Because I can never have it. Because wanting makes me weak.

"Do you want to go back to the cell?" he interrupts my thoughts.

"No."

"Then tell me what do you want, Alina?" he turns to face me and one look into his eyes is enough. I can't control myself anymore.

"I want to stop feeling guilty," my voice sounds more desperate than I intend. "Guilty for my own choices. For making people suffer. People that I care about, people that I love. I want Mal to be alive. And Nikolai, and… I want to stop feeling all this pain," for a second I consider stopping here, but I don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to keep lying to myself. "And more than anything, I want to stop feeling guilty for wanting to be here with you. I want to stop wanting you, Aleksander."

"I want to stop wanting you too, Alina." His voice is desperate, broken and in spite of his choice of words I hear the real meaning. _I want to stop loving you. _Because I want this too. Stop loving this monster of mine.

He reaches up and puts a strand of hair behind my ear. Then his eyes move to my neck. After claiming the third amplifier_ \- after killing Mal -_ my two amplifies broke. Almost burned down to ashes, leaving ugly marks on my skin.

"You should see a Healer before it's too late. Fresh scars are easier to remove," he says.

"Maybe I will keep it. To remember."

"You already have enough scars on your heart. You will always remember," his last words are barely above whisper.

This words hit me hard and I wonder how many scars are on his heart. One scar is for Baghra, I'm sure. I have it too. I raise my hand and trace the faint scars on his face. He closes his eyes and leans into my touch. I take a step closer and kiss him softly. He almost gasps in surprise and his eyes snap open, but I don't stop. My lips move slowly against his and after a short hesitations he starts kissing me back. He doesn't try to dominate it, letting me set my own pace. His hard wraps around my waist and he holds me, as if I'm something fragile. Something precious.

There is no rush.

We have all the time in the world.


End file.
